


all the new colours

by Red (S_Hylor)



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, M/M, Mpreg, Not Canon Compliant
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-13
Updated: 2018-10-13
Packaged: 2019-08-01 10:14:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,754
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16282700
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/S_Hylor/pseuds/Red
Summary: Smiling into the kiss he uses to stop Tony from babbling, Steve is almost tempted to let him distract him, to lose himself in Tony for a while, to forget about everything except reacquainting himself with Tony as intimately as he can. Except he knows that if he lets that happen he'd just put off telling Tony what he needed to. He'd put it off a handful of days already, with the excuse that telling Tony in person would be better than over the phone. It wasn't fair if he put it off any longer.





	all the new colours

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Happy Steve Bingo for the prompt "Breathless".
> 
> Thanks you [quandong_crumble](http://archiveofourown.org/users/quandong_crumble/pseuds/quandong_crumble) for the beta work.

Steve can feel his heart beating too hard, knocking against his ribs. Can feel his pulse in his fingertips, the pad of his thumb, where they’re pressed against the envelope that he’d brought from the hospital. He’s not sure if his heart feels too big, or if his lungs feel too small, but he can barely breathe.

But it isn’t the sort of breathless that makes him panic, like it used to, years ago. It makes him lightheaded, like he’s been spinning in circles and he’s about to crash down on the floor like he had as a child, on the rare days where he had excess energy. His pulse thunders in his ears, so loud that he barely hears JARVIS telling him that he’s arrived that Tony’s workshop, though he knows he has when the elevator doors open.

He can see Tony through the glass walls, can see the suit jacket slung over a stool, and the briefcase dropped haphazardly by the door, both signs that Tony had only just gotten back from his business trip. Four weeks he’d been away. Four weeks too long, as far as Steve is concerned, and even though he’d missed him so much, he can’t help but pause outside the workshop to watch Tony for a moment, shirt sleeves rolled up, tie loosened, as he stands in front of the bank of screens, one hand idly petting Dum-E who has pressed into his space.

He pauses long enough that he knows he isn’t simply admiring the sight of Tony anymore, and that he’s hesitating. Putting off what is coming next. It’s not fear, he knows that. He’s had a few days to process everything, to wrap his head around it, to grill the poor doctor with every question and fear that he can think of, until he’s as close to confident as he can be. He’s not scared that Tony will react badly. Five years together and months of talking about this, he’s pretty sure that Tony isn’t about to freak out over it.

He hopes, anyway.

Stepping closer to the doors, Steve waits as JARVIS slides them open, allowing him access to the workshop. Tony looks over at the sound, face splitting into a smile despite the fact he looks worn out.

“Hey, gorgeous.” Tony greets him, giving Dum-E one final pat before he steps down to meet Steve halfway across the workshop, leaning in to press a soft kiss against his lips. “You are definitely a sight for sore eyes. Never let me go away without you again, okay? Next time Pepper says ‘business trip’ that overlaps with your work, I’m going to tell her I can’t go. It’s an absolute crime to be away from you for that long.”

Smiling into the kiss he uses to stop Tony from babbling, Steve is almost tempted to let him distract him, to lose himself in Tony for a while, to forget about everything except reacquainting himself with Tony as intimately as he can. Except he knows that if he lets that happen he’d just put off telling Tony what he needed to. He’d put it off a handful of days already, with the excuse that telling Tony in person would be better than over the phone. It wasn’t fair if he put it off any longer.

“I don’t know, it wasn’t so bad here, Dum-E, JARVIS and I had keggers and ragers every night while you were away.” Steve jokes, stalling to try and get his nerves back under control, feeling his stomach roll and his heart kick up a notch. “You don’t want to see the penthouse.”

Tony leans back, rolling his eyes. “And you never invited Butterfingers and U?”

Shaking his head, Steve leans in to chase him, pressing a kiss to the corner of Tony’s mouth. “Oh no, they’re the sensible ones.”

Pressing into his space, Tony lifts a hand to stroke through Steve’s hair, letting it rest at the back of his neck, nuzzling against the side of his face. “I missed you, darling.”

“Missed you too.” Mumbling the reply, savouring the touch and closeness, Steve has to pull himself back, chastises himself for getting distracted again.

He takes a step back, steels himself, brings his hand clutching the envelope forward, extending it towards Tony. “So, I found this while you were away. Pretty sure it’s yours.”

Frowning, Tony accepts the envelope, holding it gingerly between his hands, turning it over, surveying it for any sort of marks or clues. “I don’t think so.”

Steve feels his stomach drop at the same time he feels like he’s about the jitter right out of his skin. He’s nervous, excited, terrified, and so insanely happy all rolled into one. “Yes, it is.”

It’s all he can do to hold still and not reach out a rip the envelope open when Tony hesitates a moment longer. He’s fought in wars, faced down aliens and robots alike, and he thinks standing in front of Tony in this moment is the hardest thing he’s ever done.

Tony raises an eyebrow, gives Steve a look that plainly says he knows something is up, but he’s going to humour him and play along, before opening the envelope and reaching inside to extract its contents.

He’s not sure if he’s holding his breath or if his lungs have stopped working, but for the achingly long moment it takes Tony to pull out the print out from inside the envelope and look it over, Steve can’t breathe and his head starts to spin from oxygen deprivation.

Tony’s face goes blank as he stares at the print out he’s holding. He blinks once, then bites the inside of his cheek. Setting the envelope aside, he presses his free hand over his mouth and blinks again.

Steve’s head keeps spinning, he still can’t breathe. He’s not sure if he wants to throw up or turn and run, but he’s thrown up plenty already, and he has never been one to run away. So he stands firm, waiting and hoping that Tony will say something, anything. He might be able to breathe again if Tony would just say something.

Shifting his hand slightly, still keeping it pressed to his face, Tony’s grip tightens on the print out, making the paper crinkle. Finally he lifts his gaze, meets Steve’s eyes, confusion and hurt creeping onto his face. “What’s going on? Why are you giving this to me?”

“It’s yours.” It’s all he manages to croak out, chest tight, throat scratching, the taste of bile spreading across his tongue. He knows he should be saying more, should explain what is going on, but his own moment of confusion and hurt has long since passed and now his emotions are running too high and he can’t quite understand why Tony isn’t as deliriously happy as he is.

Blinking again, Tony starts shaking his head. “No, no it’s not, I’d never—I wouldn’t do that to you Steve, I haven’t. It’s not mine, whatever you’ve been told, by whoever told you, it’s not mine.”

The world spins faster, Steve has to clench his teeth together to try and stave off the feeling of needing to throw up, and he still can’t breathe. Tony sounds so confused, so panicked, scared that it makes Steve ache something fierce. He feels like he’s been thrown into a building and then had it collapse on top of him. Everything is going wrong, this isn’t how he’d pictured it going in his mind. For three days he’d been thinking about how this conversation was going to go, of how happy Tony would be, because this was something they wanted. Something they’d been talking about.

Of surrogacy. Of adoption.

He can’t breathe, can’t think of what to say, how to explain it so that Tony will stop looking at him like he’d just ripped out the arc reactor. Reaching out he grabs Tony’s hand, tugs it away from his face, tries not to cry at the way that Tony flinches. Like he’s afraid of him, like he thinks Steve would hit him. He wouldn’t. But he can’t say that either, he just tugs Tony’s hand towards him, pulls at his arm until he can press Tony’s hand against his stomach.

“It’s yours.” He croaks again, tries to smile, feels like his face is going to crack and his lungs are going to collapse.

Tony’s eyes go wide. He stops shaking his head and just stares at Steve. “What?”

He has to try three times to get the next words out, even though he’d stood in front of the mirror and said it at least twenty times before JARVIS told him Tony had gotten back. “I’m pregnant.”

Tony sucks in a breath, his eyes going even wider. He glances back down at the print out of the ultrasound image. Of the foetus, nearly thirteen weeks along, out of the first trimester, the ultrasound technician had estimated, based on development and measurements. He jerks his gaze back up to Steve’s face, though his hands relaxes and fingers splay out over Steve’s stomach, unchanged on the outside so far. “How?”

Shrugging, Steve tries to relax. Hoping that if he does, Tony might too. “Not real sure. The doctors suspect it might be a side effect of the serum. It’s the only thing they can think of.”

Closing his eyes, Tony rocks in place for a moment, hand still pressed firmly to Steve’s stomach. Leaning closer he lets out a breathy, half hysterical laugh. “Is this even real? I’m dreaming, aren’t I. I’m going to wake up and this will have all been in my head and you’ll laugh at me and roll your eyes when I tell you. And then we’ll double our efforts in trying to start a family.”

Reaching up with his other hand, Steve cups the side of Tony’s face, stroking his thumb over his cheek. “Not a dream, Tony. This is real.”

Blindly Tony tries to set the print out aside, missing the bench he set the envelope on, but Dum-E picks the page up off the floor, holding it carefully in his claw. Opening his eyes, Tony stares searchingly at Steve for a long moment, then shifts his gaze down to his hand. “We’re having a baby. We are actually having a baby.”

There’s something so amazed and happy in Tony’s voice that Steve finally feels his chest expand, feels himself breathe again, for the first time in what feels like days.

 


End file.
